


Capital Vices

by MagicaLauren



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Character Development, Character Study, Platonic Relationships, Relationship Study, Romantic Angst, mostly platonic but could be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:41:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9905639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicaLauren/pseuds/MagicaLauren
Summary: "I’m really pissed off. And yet…He can’t finish off ‘and yet,’ it’s just a feeling.And yet… I’m glad he did.And yet… He still drove me to where I am.And yet… The last time I was angry at him, it left me with nothing but regret.It’s wrong to want forgiveness now. Here, after everything. "A character study in Oikawa Tooru's thoughts on Kageyama Tobio.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this was written as a birthday present after weeks of me being super busy (and busy while writing which is half why it gets so short at the end rip). Originally this was meant to be romantic but with the way the story was going I decided that unless I added in about 5k more words and a ton of extra plot points and about 1k more in dialouge... it wasn't headed that way, because it just didn't make sense and I didn't want this off kilter relationship that barely goes from hate to friends before love. Which, if I'm ever not sick again I may choose to revisit and do some major editing- it was a lot of fun to write and I'm thinking about rerouting the course of the story.
> 
> Anyway happy birthday to the person I wrote this for!

**I. Avarice- extreme greed for wealth or material gain.**

 

The gym is still quiet when Oikawa walks in, team members hustling around preparing for practice. In the far right corner Iwa-chan is still lacing his shoes up.

 

Plodding along the gym floor, he still feels mentally exhausted from the math class he just came from as he makes his way to Iwa-chan, who looks up as Oikawa approaches. 

 

“Here, the coach gave me this to give to you,” Iwa-chan calls and tosses over an open magazine with Oikawa’s frozen smile printed on it. The most recent issue that talks about the volleyball awards that just came out. 

 

The magazine falls sadly onto the ground between the two of them. “Iwa-chan aren’t you supposed to be good at throwing,” Oikawa can’t help but tease, his lips twitching as the two just stare at the fallen magazine.

 

Ripping his shoe back off- “I’ll show you a throw!”

 

Oikawa lets the shoe bounce off the side of his head and takes a moment to let the pain pass as he whines at the unfair treatment before bending down and grabbing the magazine back off the gym floor. Carefully he avoids the best spiker page where he knows Ushiwaka’s frankly plain and ugly smile will be.

 

Ah, his very own column just to praise him.

 

Praise might just  be Oikawa’s favorite past time.

 

Oikawa eats it, consumes it. He’s in love with it. 

 

_ “Oikawa-san, umm I just wanted to say I really like you. And um, I just wanted to ask um, if you maybe wanted to go out sometime?” _

 

_ “I heard he’s brilliant. The best setter in the prefecture. Not bad looking either.” _

 

And today...

_ ‘Volleyball weekly’s number one setter to look out for is none other than Miyagi Prefecture’s very own Oikawa Tooru. With quite a powerful jump serve…’ _

 

Oikawa scans the page finding what the magazine highlights as his ‘strong points’ and skipping them to find the ‘weak points’  that he’ll file away to perfect later.

 

He’s the best. The very best. Everyone knows it too. 

 

It’s not that his parents put pressure on him to be the best, or that his coaches extraneously push him either. It’s just that Oikawa is at the top and he’s terrified of coming down. He knows this, acknowledges it, and does nothing to stop it.

 

_ “Shittykawa,”  _ Iwaizumi will scold _ , “stop trying so hard, no one cares.”  _

 

But Oikawa cares. Oikawa cares very deeply.

 

It’s what got his picture there on Volleyball weekly, what put him at the top of his class and what is going to give him a professional career one day.

 

There is a sentence, one small sentence that just. It kills Oikawa, a little bit.

 

‘ _ Although Oikawa wins Best Setter Award this year, his graduation opens up the possibility that  his genius Kohai will win the spot in coming years.’ _

 

It makes Oikawa want to puke. 

 

This was supposed to be his. Being Kiitagawa Daichi setter was his, being the best setter was his, being Iwa-chan’s best friend was his (Oikawa knows he’s being dramatic, it still upsets him that he saw Iwa-chan and Tobio talking privately two days ago).

 

This is unacceptable.

 

“Congratulations Oikawa-senpai.”  _ It  _ speaks softly behind him. “I saw they mentioned your jump serve, please teach me how to do it.”

 

Oikawa whips around to the bowing head of black hair and very carefully does not throw the magazine at him under Iwaizumi’s watchful gaze.

 

Smiling Oikawa sticks his tongue out, “No,” he cheerfully replies.

 

And that’s Iwa-chan’s other shoe

 

 

* * *

  
**II. Envy- a feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck.**

 

Maybe it’s a drive that a sorry childhood fueled. 

 

Discontented parents, moving three times, having one friend up until middle school. 

 

But there is a particularly acidic feeling Oikawa’s grown familiar to when he sees kids that smile at their perfectly pastel toys, pridefully showing off rows of straight white teeth and a nice home life. 

 

Sometimes Oikawa forgets he’s ever even felt this way. Is able to lie and lie and lie to himself that it was just a petty childish phase he’s outgrown. His stomach always drops, a quick and heavy sort of thing that sits at the pit of his stomach for days until his eyes well with tears.

 

Sometimes Oikawa will stare and wonder what kind of life he could have had, who he would have been,  _ what a better person he would be if he just. Had. that.  _ And Oikawa knows, he  _ knows  _ how disgusting his feelings are. To be so embittered by someone else’s happiness that there is a taste that sits in his mouth. Acidic and sour.

 

Sometimes Oikawa walks away, a light smile on his face from seeing small children play. Happiness at others happiness. 

And then when it’s dark his mind whispers and teases. And he feels drunk off his own deprecation, ‘ _ look at me! I can’t even feel happy for kids who smile!’ _

 

So it is easy to give up the search for god given talent, to look in the mirror and say ‘ _ wrong wrong wrong I was made all wrong’  _ to give up and the get up. To look away from the mirror and to decide ‘ _ I will be my own higher power. I will make myself’ _

 

It is easy in one night, to the midnight glow of a television that bathes the surrounding area in light, to switch the channel to a volleyball game. It is easy to tell oneself ‘ _ I will do that.’ _

 

It is, of course, not so easy to ‘do that’. It’s not so easy to not wish for a god given talent.

 

Because old habits die hard. 

 

And in the midst of growing into crooked teeth, new friends and growing that talent that was not god given there is a boy. Who has perfectly cultured hands that toss as easily as he can smile, who wears their emotions of their face and gets so confused so easy.

 

Basically Oikawa’s opposite.

 

-There is a scrimmage game, half the team versus the other. Oikawa has to  _ prove  _ himself, has to move faster and harder and quicker to beat the runt who wants to usurp his throne. 

The ball goes up, it falls, it gets passed and caught and it stays off the court. 

 

And then it falls and hits the ground with a ringing  _ thwack, _ and it feels like a punch to the gut that knocks the air out of Oikawa. It was the setter who made that shot- not a spiker. 

 

Oikawa has pushed harder than anyone else in this gym to make a shot like that, and some kid ruins it, reaches into Oikawa’s pride and  _ tugs.  _

 

His perfect little Kohai.

 

“Don’t Mind, don’t mind!” he hears his teammates call behind him.

 

But Oikawa’s not looking behind himself, not looking back he’s looking ahead. Ahead to the other side of the court where  _ his  _ teammates  _ Oikawa’s  _ teammates clap Kageyama on the back and congratulate him.

 

Because ahead -to the future- is Kageyama. 

 

Oikawa has trained his short little life for a position on that court, and Kageyama didn’t, didn’t need to. He can just… set. 

 

Oikawa can feel how hot his face feels from exertion and embarrassment, his back aches, sweat beads along his hairline and his thighs burn. Slowly he straightens from leaning on his knees quietly panting and walks to the position to serve. 

 

Tennis shoes scuffle along the gym floor squeaking and it hurts Oikawa’s ears, in fact all of his senses run on high: despite his blood pumping he can feel his sweat drying and shivers, his teeth feel too sharp in his mouth and bite into his dry tongue, the smell of sweat and puberty assails his nose, and his eyes hurt from focusing so intently.

 

He bounces the ball twice on the court and spins it in his hands, running his fingers over the padded plastic. His skin hurts from the heat and the cold, his toes curl in frustration and his lips pull into a sneer. His stomach hurts too- it feels so acidic. Everything feels off balance.

 

And he catches a glimpse of wide blue eyes on the other side of the court.

 

“Oikawa-san, please teach me how to do your jump serve.” It echoes through his head. Sometimes a plea or sometimes a demand. 

 

Oikawa  _ hates _ him.

 

And it’s childish, Oikawa knows, even as he thinks it.

 

_ I’ll show you a jump serve. _

 

* * *

 

 

**III. Wrath- extreme anger.**

 

His ankle hurts. His head hurts. His stomach hurts. His eyes hurt.

 

Everything sucks. 

 

And it doesn’t help that Kageyama is. Well, little Tobio-chan is just perfect isn’t he?

 

Oikawa feels really hot and angry and like he just needs to get all of his insides out of him. He knows he’s overreacting but everything is just too much; trying to breathe deeply just made him breathe faster, trying to count just made him forget numbers. 

 

His muscles are really starting to hurt.

 

But pain is gain and Oikawa isn’t going to give up, not when Tobio-chan is just across the gym still practicing. ‘ _ Since second grade,’ _ his mind supplies, reminding Oikawa just how long this kid has been a genius. 

 

His mind feels fuzzy.

 

He’s tired, he knows he knows he knows. Iwa-chan keeps on bugging him about it, but it’s not like he even played today. Why should Oikawa get to rest? He had all day to rest on the bench? Coach gave him an extra captain’s key for a reason.

 

His chest feels too full.

 

Every breath seems to scream. Breathing out just means he’s suffocating and breathing in just means he’s choking. Letting himself lean down, Oikawa’s sweat slicked hands grasp onto his knees as he tries to control his breathing. He really shouldn’t be so exhausted right now.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Tobio-chan trot over, his black hair bouncing with each step. Oikawa knows what’s coming before it even happens. 

 

“Oikawa-san. Please show me how to serve.”

 

_ Get away,  _ he thinks,  _ I don’t want to teach you how to serve. _

_ Get away,  _ he thinks,  _ I don’t want to teach you how to be better than me. _

_ Get away, _ he thinks,  _ I don’t want you so close to me. _

_ Get away, _ he thinks, _ stop catching up to my skills. _

_ Get away,  _ he thinks,  _ get away get away get away. You’re too close. _

 

It’s really hard to breathe. Oikawa’s head feels really sluggish. Everything hurts. He can hear his heartbeat pounding. 

 

_ BAM!  _ He swings up to look at Kageyama.  _ BAM!  _ His arm is swinging around. _ BAM! _

 

_ Get away. _

 

* * *

 

 

**IV. Sloth- reluctance to work or make an effort; laziness.**

The first time he heard of Karasuno and their freak quick, he stayed at the gym for five extra practice hours.

 

The second time it came up, he didn’t even go to practice.

 

The third time, Oikawa made twenty five jump serves before he landed weird and pain shot up his knee.

 

The third time being, of course, a week before the practice match. 

 

He’s useless. 

 

He’s so useless in fact that while everyone scrambles around him on the court for practice Oikawa has been reduced to bench warmer. 

 

Oikawa wonders if Tobio-chan knows. If Tobio-chan is gearing up for his own match and knows that Oikawa is vulnerable. 

 

Probably, the little freak. 

 

Kindaichi’s been nervous the whole week, not overtly but he keeps trying too hard. Oikawa wonders if he’s like that. “Shittykawa, you are him. He is you. You guys are the same,” is Iwa-chan’s contribution after Oikawa snickered at Kunimi’s attempts to make Kindaichi stop yelling so loud and spiking so hard.

 

“Yahaba, watch how high you toss!” Oikawa calls from the bench. He could do better, he knows Yahaba is trying, but Oikawa could be out there, he could do better.

 

Letting his mind drift to the layout of the court, Oikawa tries not to think about his girlfriend dumped him, not that he’s too surprised. Kageyama comes first though, not in the good way, definitely not in the good way, in the I-will-watch-the-genius-die-from-your-eyes-way. Oikawa spares a glance at Iwa-chan spiking the ball to make sure he didn’t somehow hear that.

 

“Oikawa, I’m sure you’ll be fine, but how do you feel about sitting out this upcoming practice match? If you can get a note from your doctor, I’ll let you play, but your check up isn’t scheduled until after the match and I don’t want any permanent harm.”

 

Ah. Coach. It makes him jump a second, almost dropping his water bottle. 

 

Wait. 

 

“Coach. I’m fine.” Oikawa looks up, he wonders if he looks too pleading or too intense and works to school his features into the perfect combination of truthful. “Look, I know Tobio-chan, you’re gonna want me to play against him.”

 

Coach shakes his head slightly, tossing salt and peppered hair. “Oikawa, you keep saying that, but this ‘Tobio-chan.’” he quoted into the air, “Is only a first year and it’s a practice match, I’m just saying this may not be-”

 

Oikawa stood abruptly, leaning onto his bad knee. “Coach. Put me in.” 

 

He’s useless. On the bench again. Watching Kageyama play. Watching his team without him. The team is better together, and Oikawa is part of this team. 

  
Iwa-chan catches on and barks out a laugh, “Dude, what is this? Some cheesy sports movie?” and turns to Matsukawa miming, ‘Put me in.’ Rude. “Iwa-chan. I’m  _ being  _ an inspiration here!”

 

Turning back to Coach’s amused face, he tries to ignore sinking disappointment. “Maybe Oikawa. But I won’t lie, probably not.”

 

Useless. He’s useless. 

 

Oikawa hobbles back a step and tries to steady himself back down onto the bench.

 

His eyes skip down to his swollen knee and Oikawa stares at it, a little unthinkingly. 

 

‘ _ You’re at the top of your game Oikawa, it’s going to be very hard work to advance from here. If you advance at all.’  _ It rattles around in his brain.

 

Useless.

 

He bets Tobio-chan is better.

 

* * *

 

 

**V. Gluttony- habitual greed or excess in eating.**

 

He devours Tobio-chan. Takes in his new plays, his favorite teammates, his favorite positions (his new favorite senpais). 

 

The glare of the screen burns into the night, or morning depending but Oikawa is enraptured. 

 

Beating Omisaki, like all wins, fills Oikawa with euphoria, a sugar rush that comes and goes and can’t be satiated. But Tobio-chan’s eyes, Oikawa could  _ feel  _ them across the court, and that gave him a high that Oikawa is still riding. 

 

_ Oh, his perfect little kohai indeed, Tobio-chan is learning how to work with a team.  _ Thoughts streamline into Oikawa’s head from there, small plans and miscellaneous thoughts about Tobio-chan’s previous failings in teamwork, how to turn the freak quick against their best interests. 

 

A switch and Shrimpy-chan is replaced by the libero, Oikawa takes the time to observe the other Karasuno players. Who is who and what is what, mentally storing it to go over last minute plays during the bus ride in the morning.

 

The CD skips twice in the middle of a play and Oikawa leans in just a little bit more, unblinking. His eyes hurt again- he needs to take out his contacts and turn the brightness down on his screen, but the desk lamp is on so he takes that as counteracting all damage staying up this late watching the game will cost him. 

 

Another switch and Tobio-chan is back up front, Oikawa watches the slight twist of his back with hunger. Perfect form, perfect precision, but it’s a little high. Tobio-chan knows the perfect place to send the ball for the ace, but the ace doesn’t. From what Oikawa can glean the ace likes a bit of a higher toss, probably for more control.

 

The game pauses so the teams can switch sides of the court and Oikawa closes his eyes to let them rest and breathes.

 

He can see Tobio-chan’s hands, their nails, the way they bend to reach the ball. The twist of his body.

 

What a sweet little thing his Tobio-chan’s new tosses are. He’s trying so hard to not be the ‘King of the Court,’ poor boy. Oikawa wonders if he knows that Oikawa had been there. Probably, he probably knows and feeds on the knowledge Oikawa had been there and twice as bad. Twice as unwilling to work on a team. 

 

Guilt tickles at him and rushes through his brain, reminding him of the punch he had thrown.

 

The buzz of voices picks up again in the video and Oikawa lets his eyes open, avoiding the time on the clock and the voice (that sounds suspiciously like Iwa-chan) to go to bed.

 

* * *

 

 

**VI. Lust- a sensual appetite regarded as sinful; a passionate desire for something.**

 

Guilt eats and eats and eats. The list of things he should have done changes and lengthens.

 

_ I should have played better, tossed better, been better. _

 

_ I should have known that I wouldn’t have made it far in Volleyball, I shouldn’t have focused so much on it, I should have stayed with-. _

 

And.

 

_ I should have been better to Tobio-chan. He has new favorite senpais now (I shouldn’t just see him because he has new senpais. I should have been better, he can have other senpais.) I should have taught him to jump serve even if he got it himself. _

 

Somehow, and Oikawa will say he’s entirely not sure how, he’s sitting in the gymnasium where Tobio-chan is doing cool downs for the last preliminary before nationals. People are still shuffling out and whispering in anticipation, it’s Karasuno and Shiratorizawa. The two worst schools. Ever. 

 

He lost. He knows and he can’t change it, no matter how much he throws himself into practices. Evaluation is the first step: What can I do for college? What can I do now that we lost? What can I tell the new team to work on? Who do I want for next captain? What now?

 

Oikawa accepts it, but he’s angry. So so angry. That all his work would be so meaningless that his junior by two years would so easily overtake him. 

 

_ I’m really pissed off. And yet… _

 

He can’t finish off ‘and yet,’ it’s just a feeling. 

 

And yet… I’m glad he did.

And yet… He still drove me to where I am.

And yet… The last time I was angry at him, it left me with nothing but regret.

 

It’s wrong to want forgiveness now. Here, after everything. 

 

Tobio-chan probably doesn’t even think Oikawa’s done anything, the obtuse cow. 

 

But he wants it. Wants something, fulfillment so bad, even if he’s only wanted it since the change in sets it eats and eats away at him.

 

It was… an incredible play. 

 

Oikawa carefully doesn’t look at Tobio-chan and instead tries to examine Ushiwaka-chan for any sign of disappointment. 

 

He feels a sneer cross his face, Tobio-chan didn’t do it alone either. Looks like the perfect prodigy can fix all his team work problems- it was Glasses-chan who made the final call.

 

Casually, he asks, “Did you notice it too Iwa-chan?” Oikawa knows Iwa-chan will pick up what he’s referring to, hadn’t been able to shut up about whether or not Tobio-chan would be able to give up his control in the ‘final moment.’ They know exactly what kind of opponent Ushiwaka is too.

 

Oikawa carefully picks his words to explain the play, just another quirk of his mind to walk through events. 

 

“You’re student’s not bad,” Iwa-chan comments, staring amazed at the court.

 

Oikawa can feel his face pick up into a sneer. “He’s not my student!” But as soon as he says it  _ guilt guilt guilt.  _

 

He needs to leave, now.

 

“C’mon,” he ushers Iwa-chan, “I would rather die than watch the awards ceremony.”

 

* * *

 

  
**VII. Pride- a feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one's own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or from qualities or possessions that are widely admired.**

 

“Never forget.” Oikawa spreads his hands. 

 

He breathes in, takes in all his anger, hatred, jealousy, regret,  _ pride  _ and spreads his arms out. A little sardonically, he smirks. Nobody better ever forget Tobio-chan, his protege student.

 

“This worthless pride of mine.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
